


I'm a Fool to Want You

by haderpascal



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Fluff, Love, M/M, Masquerade Ball, aziraphale - Freeform, crowley - Freeform, gomensficweek2019, good omens - Freeform, major fluff, prince!Aziraphale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-12 00:18:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20555096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haderpascal/pseuds/haderpascal
Summary: Prince!Aziraphale and Commoner!Crowley fall in love the night of the masquerade ball.





	I'm a Fool to Want You

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was heavily inspired by the song, 'I'm a fool to want you' by Billie Holiday and even some of the speech in the text has been taken from the lyrics. Give the song a listen :)

A party of delicately beautiful women and smartly dressed gentlemen swarm the plethora of intimately lit grand rooms; a classical band in every room, soothing everyone on to the dance floor with their lovers or with a complete stranger that happens to catch their eye. A sea of silver and gold masquerade masks glow and illuminate under the dozens of crystal lights dangling from the perfectly sculpted ceilings, almost giving the illusion of dancing and swaying under the star littered night sky. Candle lights flickering and dancing along to the beat on the walls, casting stunning shadows around the rooms. It was all quite spectacular. Not a single imperfection. Maids and waiters hustle and bustle around the room, making sure to refill wine glasses for the upper-class guests and the royal family. They too were dressed to fit the theme of the masquerade ball, on special orders of prince Aziraphale- a loved and respected member of the royal family for he is the kindest and most loving of them all. He, of course, couldn’t resist getting all dressed up for such a glamorous night. His attire consisting of whites, silvers and creams. Creamy and flowy trousers fit with a tucked in frilly white blouse; complete with his silver crown, pearls and gracefully black smithed silver masquerade mask. The eye holes cut to resemble a sly cat-eye and microscopic skillfully crafted details that scream elegance and royalty. 

As he glides into the main hall, a myriad of eyes fall onto his strong presence and they’re all instantly captivated. Women and men alike, stop dancing with their partners in desperation of catching the majestic eye of prince Aziraphale as his attention his hard to capture. His regal energy consumes the hearts of his quests and he makes sure to smile gratefully when slithering through the crowd. He takes a seat at the head table to watch his guests dance the night away under the warm affectionate lighting and hip-swaying music. Gentlemen spinning around their fair maidens and stunning women putting all their passion into their swaying. As glorious and captivating as it all was, Aziraphale found his crystallised blue eyes drifting to a mysterious gentleman drinking a glass of wine against the chiselled arch of the grand hallway's entrance, fiddling with the flowy pinned back curtains in one hand whilst admiring the crowd. Everything about him caught the attention of the prince. From head to toe, he was dressed in a handsomely suave attire; god, Aziraphale felt his heart pick up the pace and his mouth drain of any moisture. This mysterious gentlemen with luscious red curly hair wrestled into a half-up, half down manner. Dressed like the night he wore all black. A black blouse, skinny trousers that fit him wonderfully, a stunning black baggy cloak with golden intricate patterns swirling around the back and hood. Silver snake rings and to top it all off, a steampunk style masquerade mask. Black as the void, covering three-quarters of his face with rusted golds and copper accents. Aziraphale went into a daze, daydreaming about the stranger that now, the stranger is staring back with only one side of his smirk visible to Aziraphale and a twinkle in his eye. He sends the prince a wink and takes a swig of his wine, leaving Aziraphale breathless and searching for the control of his breathing. The prince only looks away for a second to gain his composure, then when he looks back the stranger is gone.  _ No…. oh god no… _ Aziraphale panics internally. 

He throws himself up out of his chair and rushes out the words  _ ‘excuse me’ _ and ‘ _ pardon me for a moment’ _ while he’s climbing over his chair and scrambling the entrance that the mysterious gentleman was standing a few moments ago. Pushing past the sheer curtains that must have unpinned during the unknown man's departure, Aziraphale skids out into the dimly lit vast hallway with only candles on the walls to pave his way. A blur of the golden embroidered cloak swoops around the corner down the hall and the prince stars running in that direction. He continues running and following after the man until the mysterious gentleman finally comes to a halt at the entrance of the enormous royal garden. This garden always looks so inviting underneath the glowing moonlight. Meticulously sculpted statues, trimmed hedges and rose bushes. It felt like a dreamy eutopia. Aziraphale breaks his eyes away from the garden and comes face to face with the golden eyes man. A striking contrast between his rich shimmering eyes to the matte black mask. Aziraphale feels himself holding his breath in anticipation.

“Your majesty, I must congratulate you on such a favourable ball.” The man hums, a honey like voice. “I also couldn’t help but notice your infatuation of my presence,” this time he smirks, especially at the sigh of the rosy pink that’s creeping up Aziraphale’s cheeks, which he silently curses himself for not wearing a less exposing mask. 

“It would be most pleasing to me if I could thank you appropriately, if only I knew your name though,” Aziraphale fishes for information. 

“Crowley, the name is Crowley… your majesty.” 

“Please, dear boy, you really don’t have to trouble yourself in calling me that.”

“Well, I’m certainly not calling you Aziraphale, my prince. So, what else can I call you?” 

“How about anything you wish to call me?” Aziraphale gives him a soft, loving smile. Watching Crowley as he takes a moment to think of what his heart desires to call Aziraphale. The silence only lasted for a few moments and then Crowley snaps his fingers as a quiet celebration of what he just thought of. He steps unbearable close to Aziraphale; they’re both staring into eachothers moonlit eyes for a second and then Crowley smirks and opens his mouth.

“Angel,” his voice is soft, almost like he’s exhaling the pet name. A quiet gasp leaves Aziraphale at that moment. “I shall call you, my angel.” 

»»————- ♔ ————-««

Crowley and Aziraphale spend the whole masquerade ball night walking around the castle, around the royal garden and sitting near the lake. Enjoying life’s simple pleasures of embracing each others company and slowly falling in love with one another as they walk hand in hand back to the entrance of the garden of where they started their nightly journey. The sun was going to come up in an hour or so and that is when the guests will finally start to leave. Aziraphale drags Crowley along with entwined hands to take him inside the castle until Crolwey stops stiffly in his spot and lets go of Aziraphale’s hand. The prince swiftly spins around and walks two steps back to stand directly in front of the man he’s only known for a few hours but his heart tells him he’s known him for years. Crowley's face looks uncomfortable and sad under his mask. Aziraphale slowly takes off his mask and reaches up to slowly take of Crowley’s gently. 

“What’s the matter, dear boy?” Aziraphale strokes Crowley’s left cheek with a tender and sensitive touch and Crowley leans his cheek into the warm embrace and snakes an arm around Aziraphale’s middle to close the gap between their bodies. His eyebrows furrow together as if he’s at war with whatever is cursing his thoughts and Aziraphale feels helpless watching the man he’s grown to cherish feel distressed. 

“I’m a fool, angel,” a sigh escapes past his lips briefly and he squeezes the prince tightly. “I’m a fool to want you, to want a love that can’t be true!” The distress is rising in the gut of his voice and Aziraphale goes to stop his word vomit but Crowley cuts in before he could have a chance to. “...such a fool to hold you,” he looks up to gaze dreamily at Aziraphale’s lips. “To seek a kiss… not mine alone.” Crowley closes his eyes and one stray tear falls through his lashes and descends down his cheek and onto Aziraphale’s palm that still rests on Crowley’s cheek. 

“Run away with me.” Aziraphale blurts out. 

“What!” Crowley’s eyes shoot open and before he could put in another shocked expression Aziraphale clashes his pastel pink lips onto Crowley’s. His eyes flutter close and savour the sweet taste of his angel and places a hand on the back of Aziraphale’s head to card his fingers through the soft ringlet curls. Once they break apart they’re both breathless and in shock of one another's boldness.

“Run away with me, Crowley.” Aziraphale hums and goes to kiss Crowley for a second time but, Crowley puts a finger over his lips to stop him and stares into his eyes. 

“Are you sure, angel..?”

There was a silence.

“Surer than I’ve ever been of anything in my entire life.” They both smirk and giggle to each other and allow their lips to meet again

They ran away that very night, right before the stars went into hiding the sun peeked over the horizon. The only thing left in their path is the crown Aziraphale felt restricted by his whole life laying on the ground of the garden hedge entrance. 


End file.
